


Peggy's Got A Friend

by papermoon2719



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papermoon2719/pseuds/papermoon2719
Summary: When Peggy completely ignores Bucky in that bar in 1945, you can’t help but feel the need to make him feel wanted again.





	1. Chapter 1

“Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she’s got a friend.”

You smirk at the banter of the two men across the bar, both apparently unaware that you can hear them. You know who they are. Of course you do. Peggy doesn’t shut up about Captain Rogers when the two of you are alone together, and the way she feels about him is both cute and nauseating.

The object of her affections grabs his whiskey off of the bar, downing it in one gulp before sending a cheeky grin to Sergeant Barnes. The darker haired soldier shoots a sad one back and you feel a pang in your chest. You know the feeling, the one you get right before you go home at night, alone and feeling on the absolute bottom? That’s what was reflected in that soft upturn of his lips, the slight jerk of his chin. You felt it often enough to be able to recognize it.

You watch as he sinks back down on his stool, hands wrapping around his glass as he stares into it. You grab your wineglass, jaw setting as you stand and walk over to him.

“This seat taken?” you ask. Barnes doesn’t look up, just nods. You raise an eyebrow but sit anyways, figuring I’m already here. Your finger traces the rim of your wineglass once you’re situated, legs crossed.

“Any particular reason you’re over here instead of celebrating with the Commandos?” you ask, watching your red-tipped finger circle again and again. He shrugs, still not looking up.

“Guess I just wanted some quiet,” he answers. You almost sigh, dropping your hands down against the bar, palms flat against the cool wood.

“Oh, well. Guess I’ll leave you alone, then,” you say, trying not to sound too defeated. You’d hoped your ruse would work, and you hadn’t even used your best line yet. But, oh well, you’d just have to settle for going back to your room and -

“You don’t have to,” he says, turning to look at you for the first time. You feel a pull in your gut as his eyes drift up your body, taking in the black dress, red lipstick, and pin curls for the first time. You’re pleased when his eyes widen a bit.

“I, uh,” he stammers, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

You take his outstretched hand, grasping it. It’s soft for a soldier’s hand.

“Y/N. I’m a friend of Peggy’s,” you say. You can tell the innuendo you intended hits home when Bucky’s eyes darken, his tongue making another appearance. You wonder what it would feel like on your own lips, and you don’t mean the ones that are painted with Floress Twilight Fuschia right now. You have to bite the inside of your cheek as you feel yourself clench under your dress.

“I see,” he replies, biting his lip as he looks you up and down again. You smile at him, feeling particularly catty. You down the rest of your wine in one go, grabbing the small clutch you brought off of the bartop.

“So, how ‘bout we find that quiet you wanted, soldier?” you say. A sultry grin curls on Bucky’s mouth and he stands, emptying his glass as well.

“I think that’s a fine idea, doll.”


	2. Chapter 2

You have no idea how you manage to make it back to your small flat without Bucky ripping your dress off of you and taking you in an alley, but you do. His lips are on your neck, sucking deliciously at your pulse point.

You finally get the door open, giggling as Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist and you fall into the apartment. As soon as the door’s closed again Bucky has you pinned against it, his lips back on your throat.

“So… what… d’you do… for the Army?” he asks between kisses and nips. Your hands tighten in his hair.

“I, ah, specialize in linguistics,” you pant, gasping when he bites down on your shoulder before pulling away.

“Linguistics?” he asks, brushing your nose with his.

“It means I have a talented mouth,” you answer, said mouth barely brushing his before you sink down to your knees. Bucky groans as you reach for his belt buckle, one hand going to the nape of your neck, the other pressing against the wall. You peer up at him through your lashes, clenching when you see his pupils are blown and his bottom lip is between his teeth.

You quickly get his pants open, tugging them down to his knees. He’s already hard, cock straining against his boxers. You reach up, pulling them down just enough to free it, licking the tip when it bobs in front of your mouth. The groan that fills your ears as you wrap your lips around the head spur you on and you sink down, taking Bucky’s cock until it hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus, fuck, doll,” Bucky rasps, hand tightening in your hair. You pull back until he’s almost out of your mouth before leaning back in, starting a quick, steady pace. It’s not long before Bucky’s pulling you away, moaning deeply.

“Something wrong?” you ask, voice hoarse from the slight battering your throat took. Bucky shakes his head.

“The exact opposite,” he explains, his hand on the back of your neck coming around to cup your cheek. “Keep that up and I’m gonna end up comin’ before the real fun starts.”

You smile up at him coyly, taking his outstretched hand. He toes off his shoes and socks, kicking his pants completely off. “Bedroom?” he asks, leaning close enough to brush a stray curl behind your ear. You incline your head to your right, down a short and narrow hall, and then squeal as you’re picked up and thrown over his shoulder.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice ass?” you ask breathlessly, hands going to his hips to push you up enough to really be able to see said part of his anatomy.

“It’s been mentioned, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” he quips, and then chuckles when you smack one shapely globe. “Hey! Hands off the merchandise.”

You receive a smack to your own rear when you repeat your actions with his other cheek. “You’re gonna pay for that, doll,” he says, and the depth of his voice makes you shiver.

“Get that dress off,” Bucky instructs, setting you on your feet. You move to take off your shoes but he tsks, shaking his head.

“I just said the dress, Princess,” he corrects. His hands go to the buttons of his shirt and you nod once, sliding your heel back into the shoe.

“Yes, sir,” you say, mock saluting before reaching around your back to unzip the dress. His eyes darken as you slowly slip it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor around your ankles.

“God bless America,” he mutters, eyes raking over your body. You flush under his scrutiny, kicking the dress away from you. You were suddenly glad you’d gone through the trouble of dealing with a garter belt tonight, your all-black lingerie a clear winner.

You reach forward, tugging the last two buttons of his dress shirt open before stepping forward to push it and his jacket off his shoulders. With your heels you’re almost at eye level with him, so you let your nose bump his, lips barely brushing over his.

“Orders, sir?” you ask, tongue darting out to lick Bucky’s bottom lip. He bites at your tongue, teeth clipping dangerously close.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he growls, chin jerking towards the bed. You nod, turning and doing so. You can see his reflection in the mirror beside the bed, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s looking at you lustfully, but also sort of reverently. Like he has to be careful with you.

Goosebumps break out across your thigh when his fingers barely brush over it. He traces the outside edge of your panties, snapping them lightly at the crux of your legs.

“I don’t think you need these,” he says, curling the fingers of both hands into the waistband and tugging them over the plump swell of your ass. You hear him moan when he sees that you’re not only soaked, but that you’re shaved smooth.

“So beautiful,” he muses, cupping your sex with one hand as the other pulls your panties down to your knees. You moan, rocking back against his hand, trying to get some friction. He tisks, pulling his hand away.

“Not quite yet, Princess,” he scolds softly. “Let me just look at you for a minute.”

You feel your face heating with desire and you tilt your hips, spreading yourself wider for him. He moans, reaching up to pat your backside lightly.

“Good girl.”

You cry out when he slips two fingers into you, the back of his knuckles brushing your clit. He pumps a few times, just feeling you flutter around his fingers before he pulls out.

“Face down,” he instructs, and you comply, leaning down and crossing your arms under your head. He leans forward to press a kiss to each of your cheeks.

“Such a good girl for Sir. Now, make sure you keep quiet so you don’t wake the neighbors.”

You have to bite down on your forearm to keep from swearing loudly when you feel his tongue swipe through your folds. You moan deeply, pushing your hips back into his face, tilting them upwards when the tip of his tongue swirls around your clit.

His finger replaces his tongue, which he starts fucking in and out of your hole. You feel yourself coming undone and start rocking your hips, pressing your face down into the mattress to keep from screaming his name as you come. You can feel your lipstick smearing on the sheets but you don’t care. All you care about is the tongue that’s currently kitten-licking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Bucky breathes from your hip.

“Are you going to fuck me, Sir?” you pant, turning your head enough to look at him. Bucky grins and you see his chin is slick with you, and you feel yourself clench.

“‘Course I am, dollface. Didn’t think you were gonna be the only one comin’ tonight, didja?”

With that he grabs your hips, flipping you over on your back. He pulls your shoes off, fingers running up your legs to undo the clasps holding your thigh highs up. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he pulls them off, first one and then the other, before tugging your panties off too. He moves on to the belt, nimble fingers undoing the tie in record time before pulling it open. You arch your back when he moves up to your bra, allowing him to unclasp it before finally removing your last piece of clothing.

“My God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, awe in his voice. You hold eye contact as he climbs between your legs, kneeling as he lines himself up.

“You sure you want this, darlin’?” he asks softly. You nod, tilting your hips up for him. He slides in, leaning forward to prop himself up on his forearms as he bottoms out. You both moan, your hands sliding up his chest as he begins thrusting.

It feels different when he kisses you, and in the weeks to come you would wonder if maybe a part of him knew what was going to happen on that train and he decided to give it his all tonight. It was in that moment that this went from a random fuck to eradicate pent up sexual energy to making love.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and he goes willingly, face lowering to the crook of your neck as his hips roll into yours, moans and pants and gasps puffing across your neck.

His mouth finds yours again as his hips start to stutter, moaning in your mouth a moment before he comes. You feel him spill into you and the rational part of your brain screams that you forgot a rubber, but you quell that voice, choosing instead to ease Bucky through his pleasure just as he did for you.

He eventually slips out of you, rolling onto his back and pulling you into his chest. You go willingly, pressing a kiss to his sternum.

“I should get cleaned up,” you murmur and he nods, letting you go so you can rise, crossing the small bedroom to the bathroom. You wash your face and run a wet washcloth between your legs before picking up your nightgown from the edge of the hamper where you left it this morning. You wet another washcloth before heading back out to the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed with your back to Bucky as he cleans himself off with it.

He stands and moves like he’s going to leave, but he turns when he’s in your doorway.

“Can I be honest with you, doll?” He asks softly. You nod.

“Usually this kind of thing is a one time deal for me. I kind of cut and run afterwards,” he says, and you feel your heart sink. Maybe that moment was a figment of your imagination.

“But right now….” He says, voice gravelly. You realize he has tears in his eyes as he looks at you.

“Right now I don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

That night you sleep wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The next morning your alarm goes off at 5AM, and you wake up to blue eyes and missed brown hair. He makes love to you again, face buried in your throat the same way. At 6:30 he leads you downstairs, arm-in-arm as he hails a cab. At 6:45 you get to the base and you lead him to your office. At 7:13 Steve Rogers shows up, telling Bucky it’s time to go. At 7:14 Bucky kisses you, lips lingering just long enough that Steve is blushing when you pull away. You agree to walk him downstairs to the convoy. At 7:18 you ignore the cheeky grins and knowing whoops from the Commandos as you kiss Bucky again. At 7:19 you wave as they leave, smiling sadly but hopeful with the promise that Bucky will come back to you and make you his girl. At 7:25 you make it back to your office to find Colonel Phillips waiting with a stack of new recruits’ files.

And at 4:18, exactly ten hours after you said goodbye, Peggy walks into your office with tears in her eyes and your life comes crashing down around your ears.


	3. Chapter 3

**April 2017, Stark Tower, New York, NY  
**

“Okay, clowns, I need you all to listen to me very carefully. We are about to have the most important inspection of our lives, and I need you all to behave like you’re fully-functioning adults.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Tony.”

Sam has to duck as a throw pillow is thrown at his head.

“Ha! Missed!” he snaps at Wanda, only to be promptly smacked in the face with another one by Nat. The redhead grins, pulling it back into her lap and curling her arms around it.

“Will you three cut it out?” Steve says, warning them with a raised eyebrow. They quiet down, knowing that when Papa Steve gets mad it’s a bad day for everyone. Tony nods to him in thanks and clears his throat.

“Now,  _as I was saying_ , today is a very important inspection because it’s Bucky’s first and, as such, the bureaucratic asshats in Congress have sent someone who is as hardass as they come.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, looking at Tony skeptically. “What exactly is so hardass about this guy?” he asks.

“Well, first of all, I’m not a guy.”

The entire room seems to jump as everyone turns to see a woman standing in the doorway. She’s in her early 30s, wearing a sharp pantsuit, her long brown hair pulled into a half-up style over her ears that’s reminiscent of Victory Rolls. Her lips are painted a deep burgundy and she’s holding a briefcase in one hand.

She walks around the couch, holding a hand out to Tony. He shakes it, looking dumbstruck.

“Damn,” Sam whispers, and Nat has to whack him with the pillow again. She turns back to fully look at the team, and that’s when Bucky starts to realize something is off about her. The curve of her bottom lip, the arch of her eyebrows… she looks familiar.

“My name is Cecilia Warren. I’m the new liaison between the Avengers and Congress,” she explains, and the sound of her voice snaps something inside of Bucky, and suddenly he knows who she reminds him of. He whispers the name like a prayer, unable to help himself. Her head turns his way, a soft, familiar smile on it.

“Is it alright if I start with you, Sergeant Barnes?” she asks softly. All eyes turn to him and he swallows hard, but nods. Tony steps forward, gesturing down the hall with his arm.

“You can use my office if you’d like,” he offers, and Cecilia smiles warmly at him. “It’s just down the hall to the left. Bucky knows where it is.”

Bucky’s legs feel like they’re filled with lead as he leads her down the hall, walking in and flipping on the light. She’s right behind him when he turns, and her bright blue eyes catch him off guard. She smiles at him again, turning to close the door behind her. When she turns back around she has tears in her eyes.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she whispers, and he looks at her quizzically.

“I’m sure you’ve read my file,” he says, and she nods softly.

“I have to say, you’re file is nothing like what Baba told me about you,” she says. Bucky suddenly feels sick.

Baba… as in babushka?

As if she’s reading his mind she nods, stepping forward. A tear finally falls down her cheek.

“My grandmother was  Y/N Y/L/N. She gave birth to my mother in 1946. Nine months after you were supposedly killed in action.”

Bucky’s head swims as he stares at the woman in front of him.

“So, you’re my…?” he starts, but can’t find it in him to actually say the word. If he says it, that’s just too much. She seems to understand this and nods, smiling sadly at him.

“Your granddaughter.”


End file.
